


Gardenia

by Kikico



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Chestnut boi, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Love, Sickness, Translation, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikico/pseuds/Kikico
Summary: Sometimes love blossoms, sprouts and you can't contain it. Lance isn't an idiot and knows that he prefers friendship to love. He keeps the secrets, but the fragrance to gardenia doesn't dissipate. [Hanahaki disease!AU]





	Gardenia

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Voltron: Legendary Defender and the characters don't belong to me.
> 
> Hello, guys! This is the first time I publish something for the english fandom (both in Voltron and in general). This story was originally written in spanish for the Voltron Angst Week which occurred in April. I'm not particularly good at english, but a very good friend of mine —thank you very much, David, u r awesome buddy!— translated it. So, I wanna share it with you.
> 
> pd1. For the Voltron Angst Week of April, day 6. Prompt: Secret.
> 
> pd2. The hanahaki disease is a fictitious disease where the person coughs (or throw up, but I prefer cough) petals or flowers when he/she is suffering from unrequited love. On the other hand, gardenia, in the language of flowers, can mean secret love.

**Gardenia**

**[Secret]**

Lance never enjoyed the picture of the gardenia petals falling to the bottom of his cup of peach tea like it was something insipid, or when they get impertinently mixed with the twelve drops of sweetener of his coffee. He never gets rid of them immediately, because every time they appear in front of him, his mind just goes blank. He always ended up stirring them for a few minutes with a spoon, making the ceramic ring, as it was the only hint he had to comprehend that he wasn’t trapped in a nightmare. His room was overwhelmed with the scent of gardenias. The throat became to hurt, the air was barely able to reach his lungs and, even if the petals didn’t had a flavor of their own, a bitter taste still remained is his mouth due to his own psyche. 

In the beginning, he thought that he could get used to a life with it, but he soon realized that the issue will slip out of his hands, like the gardenias off his throat. Like the soft, pale petals, his feelings were almost impossible to contain, and with every day that passed looking into those dark eyes and the wildness of that man’s hair, the situation got worse to a point that he found it was tragicomic. His _secret love_ of gardenia was growing without a pause and Lance knew that when the moment of full blooming arrives, it was going to fade, and his life with it.

The first time he noticed it, was after a minute hand pointed out that the time was over (and for him, stopped) with the company of an unpleasant jump of his heart. On that day, the mere fact of living alone in the apartment he was renting while he was studying felt heavier than any other day, because he wasn’t used to the silence. He had to deliver a research and there was absolutely nothing (or no one) to distract him. The sound of the television and the snacks of his pantry didn’t compare with the noises that emerge from the vocal cords of someone who breathes the same air as you, and gets stimulated by the same things as you. Lance was someone familiar to being surrounded by a lot of people in the same room, and even when he had to say goodbye to his family, he felt relief of being able to be a full grown adult in a new city, but secretly, he missed them as much as a well-cooked homemade plate of food.

He looked around him contemplating how clean the place was thanks to all the work he did that morning, and his notebook with an open Word document that would be immaculate if it wasn’t because it had written the title of his investigation. McClain wasn’t going to win anything by fooling himself. The work was for two weeks and he wasn’t going to work at his fullest until two days were left. He pulled out his phone and called Keith, because even if he said that they were sworn enemies, their relationship was based on challenging each other in the trifle issues of life. Truth be told, they were the best buddies since high school and only they were able to understand each other’s language. They had a lot of fun “arguing”, but what they’re actually doing is talking about each other with words and gestures, granting that spark of emotion Lance needed when he felt that he was lacking of someone to kill time with. Keith answered to the fourth ring, questioning him in why he didn’t just send a message via WhatsApp, but Lance denied it because he was one of the few that preferred a phone call over a message, due to the fact it was faster. The latter went straight to the point, asking him if he can go to his place because “he didn’t have to study and was getting bored”, and that he had no problem taking a couple of pepperoni pizzas if with that he gained permission.

“You can come if you want. I only have to look for the oven to finish cooking the last three kilograms of baguettes that Shiro left me in charge.” The dark haired replied on the other side of the line. Lance was able to hear the metallic sounds of the bakery racks being dragged, probably being prepared by Keith for when he had to take the bread out. “But it’s not necessary that you bring pizzas.”

“Are you saying no to pizza?! Who do you think you are rejecting a couple of well-made pizzas with pepperoni that, by the way, you’re not going to pay for in the first place?! Where has your love for top quality food gone?! Hunk would be so disappointed.”

“It’s not about that. Do you remember where I live? I have fresh-baked bread here and Shiro did the groceries for this month not long ago, so we can easily prepare some pizza breads and you save yourself some cash, idiot.”

The chestnut-color haired kept quiet for a few seconds and ended up agreeing with him, because Kogane emphasized a very important point that went over Lance’s head, despite the fact that it was something obvious, even to this point in time. Keith’s home consisted of a modest, but beautiful bakery that Shiro, his older cousin, owned and administrated. In this place the boy worked as a baker, in order to help his relative as form of retribution for accepting him without hesitation, and also to obtain the enough money for his future higher education. Despite the fact that Keith didn’t felt an unconditional love for good bread, he enjoyed his job and also learned a few tricks and recipes thanks to the advices of his cousin. There were even times when Lance joined him or helped him in more punctual issues, because cooking wasn’t one of his strengths.

“But,” continued Kogane, “buy the pepperoni. We don’t have any.”

“No problem.”

Lance hung up the phone, put the keys on the pocket of his favorite green jacket and didn’t even dare to turn off his notebook; instead, he left it in suspension mode, with his research endlessly in pause. He knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to find pepperoni in any store, so he decided to take a detour to the most crowded grocery store of the main street before taking the bus and, incidentally, buy any type of drink for the dark haired more than anything else, because he had a preference for water or herbal tea for the wellbeing of his skin.

One of the things that he liked the most about of the bakery, besides its beautiful appearance, was that you were able to smell that scent of warm bread that could stimulate the hunger of any human being from three meters outside. He showed up in front of the door at exactly forty minutes and headed to the baking area without announcing his arrival, because politeness between them wasn’t needed at all. Right after crossing the doorstep, he felt the heat of the oven and the intensified scent of the dough being cooked, besides finding Keith dressed up with an apron and a traditional white hat as the flour covered his hands up to his wrists. In the beginning, he didn’t pay attention because he was with his arms crossed and looking directly to the timer, but he suddenly turned around to see that his friend was leaving the bag he was carrying in order to wear one of the remaining aprons and take a seat in a close bench, holding a couple of large mittens.

Keith scanned him for a few seconds before saying something to him:

“Tell me the truth, Lance. You came here to shirk from your work, right?”

“Work? What do you mean?”

“The other day I heard you saying that you had to deliver an ethics investigation in two weeks. I don’t know what you expect me to tell you, but that “I have nothing to study and I’m bored” wasn’t very convincing.”

“Me? Skipping responsibilities? Well, I feel offended.” The brown-haired answered with an obvious, fake melodramatic tone. However, due to Keith’s judgmental sight, Lance frowned his lips in a whim, as fake as the previous. “You know me already, Keith. I can’t struggle against my own way of doing things. I’ll do it… in a week from now, because then I’ll be able to use my full productive potential.” Lance shrunk his shoulders, smiling with pride. Kogane didn’t reply because he knew that even if his friend didn’t come up to visit, he wouldn’t have done anything at all anyway. “What about Shiro?”

“Paying bills and doing some paperwork. He’ll arrive at night, but I’ll close earlier.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you arrived and want some pizza breads.”

Lance didn’t expect that answer and felt surprisingly touched. He believed to have felt something unusual in his chest but didn’t pay too much attention to it, releasing an awkward laugh and raising his eyebrows.

“I see. You really understand which the top priorities are.”

“Well… pretending you’re not here is far worse.”

As an answer, he only got a grimace from the chestnut-color haired. Keith could be practical and a bit stoic in his way of thinking, but he always had some noble attitudes that were oblivious to him and came up out of habit. Impulsive, but a good person, that’s how Lance classified him. He  knew all of this since a long time ago, and despite that he wasn’t going to shout this from every rooftop, because he has a dignity to protect, he truly knew that Keith Kogane was one of those human beings that you can’t let go no matter what, because it would be like depraving yourself of oxygen, like losing a part of yourself. He looked at him furtively. Kogane had already turned his sight to the oven, waiting for the remaining fifteen minutes to turn it off. Lance realized that besides the flour in Keith’s hands, a bit was decorating the tip of his nose.

“While we wait, can I…?”

“They are in the same cabinet as always. Shiro hasn’t count the bags, so you can take as much as you want.”

With that being said, the young man jumped of his seat and went through the house to reach the kitchen, completely outside of the bakery area. He went directly to the furniture above the stove and stretched his hand to reach a small metallic box in which Shiro kept his teas of diverse flavors. Lance had an unusual inclination toward infusions that weren’t of black tea, preferring the fruit flavored ones more than the others, sharing this same preference with the cousin of his best friend. The brown-haired discovered a couple of years ago that Shiro always buys very expensive selections, and because Lance’s current economical status as a student didn’t allow him to get luxurious, he always takes a couple of tea envelops to prepare for him while he accompanies Keith. Supposedly, this was all behind Shiro’s back, but they both suspected that the man already knew about this and he allowed it because he was in good terms with the brown haired.

The scent of apples and cinnamon softly spread throughout the kitchen, and the temperature of the beverage went through the porcelain, warming Lance’s fingers. Neither sweet nor bland, the young man couldn’t stop licking his own lips every time he drank a bit.

He went back to Keith, who abandoned his post in front of the oven and was leaning on the wall aside the bench, an odd action coming from him. Lance sat down again and looked to the brunette with an expression of doubt while he drank his tea.

“The baguettes will be in five minutes” answered Kogane.

“How much does it take?”

“Like thirty five minutes.”

“Are those your specialty?”

Keith looked at him sideways.

“Well… I live in a bakery and work in it too, so I can do different types of bread: whole wheat, white, boule, Vienna bread, anise bread, brioche… and even croissants.” Keith whispered, with one hand on his chin. “But I admit that baguettes are my finest ones.”

“I’ll guess you’ll give me a few. You know… friendship and stuff.”

“Of course… not,” replied smiling.

“Tch, dude.”

The apple and the cinnamon weren’t able to stand against the delightful fragrance of baguettes that was surrounding the boys, but only Lance was able to felt it and appreciate it, even though the distance between both wasn’t that much. If both gentleman were to turn their heads, their eyes would meet with a distance of less than fifteen centimeters, but both were focused on their own, with silence in their minds.

Or so they thought, until Keith brought back the sound, unraveling his crossed arms and patting the shoulder of his friend to get his attention. Lance was about to ask to be careful of not getting his lovely jacket dirty with flour, but the question that emerged from the lips of the brunette overshadowed his complaint.

“How’ve you been?”

The first answer was a blink of his eyes. The second was a frown. The third one was to smile awkwardly and lean his head to one side.

“Eh? I’m ok, as always. Why?”

Keith looked at him fixedly, like if his dark eyes were to dive in Lance’s and dig inside of these. Lance was sure that he missed something important, because he wasn’t able to understand a thing that was happening. He just called him, went to his place and they were going to eat some pizza breads when the bread was ready for the baker to perform his work. He didn’t say anything else. Yet, why he thought that question had a secret meaning behind it?

He began to feel uncomfortable with Keith’s intense gaze, and even more when he squatted down to talk at the same height. This way, Lance was able to see even more of the white powder that was decorating the turned up nose of his friend. He swallowed a bit of saliva and waited, wishing for an elucidation of the current issue.

“I’m sorry to tell you that I know you since a long time and, even if you’re not an open book, it’s not so hard to read you.” Keith expressed, with total confidence in his words. “You’ve come here more often, and even though you are a nuisance, I got used to it. I’m sure your investigation is nothing more than a pseudo-excuse, because you’re evading it anyway.”

“Well, I have absolutely no idea what are you talking about, Keith.”

“I’m telling you to stop being an idiot and that it’s not necessary to call me for permission to come here. If you feel alone or want to hang out for a bit, you can show up whenever you want. I know you need it sometimes, as do I or anyone in that matter. Shiro taught me that. Even if it is 2 A.M, I’ll open the door for you.”

The timer began to ring, announcing that the cooking time was over. Keith turned around in that direction and quickly stood up to grab his mittens and take out the bread trays in order to low their temperature and put the bread in their respective baskets. Lance was supposed to be backing him up with the task, but he was lost in his thoughts looking at his tea of apples and cinnamon. It’s not like Keith needed him anyway because he could do it with the expertise of a professional baker.

Sometimes life play tricks on you and your brain reacts to things that could have easily slip away as pointless issues or sound anecdotes. In this case, a gentle declaration from a friend that, although it wasn’t something very common of him due to his temperamental and rash personality that sometimes caused unnecessary tension, demonstrated that he cared for his other friend, and that Lance McClain had his own place inside a list of important people for Keith. However, it was something else entirely for Lance. An explosion happened inside of him, a relentless heartbeat and the awakening of a strange feeling. Perhaps it was the way he moved his dark eyebrows or maybe the shape of the flour mark in his nose. Maybe it was the smooth sound of his voice or perhaps the way his lips where shaped when he spoke. Maybe it was how the reflection of his eyes changed when he squatted down or maybe how his messy hair moved when the timer rang. Perhaps it was how he employed his good perception to realize that Lance wished for company.

He didn’t know exactly why he was looking differently at the Keith Kogane of everyday, and would quickly realize that the mystery would be one without an answer. But no matter what, he still felt strange, even if he tried to hide his face behind the smoking cup so his company wouldn’t see his flustered face.

Particularly because things didn’t came to an end at that moment.

He suddenly started to cough copiously, feeling how his lungs were closing and his throat becoming to burn. He tried to hold his torso and arm steady because he didn’t want to spill the liquid on the floor or on himself. A sensation of drown came to him, as if the beverage took the wrong route instead of going through his esophagus and his organism began a defensive reflex to repair this. But it wasn’t tea what he wanted to let go. It was different, like if something was blooming inside of him and trying to escape recklessly through his lips.

A snow-white petal fell to his lap, causing a tremendous pressure in Lance’s chest.

No.

Please, no.

“Are you all right?”

When he raised his head, he found Keith’s silhouette looking at him with one of the metallic trays in hand, while the other was already cooling out. He quickly hid the petal with his hand, crushing it. He couldn’t allow Keith to see it. The scent of bread that came from the oven got even stronger. Lance only came up to look for a quick excuse to turn his sight or Keith’s.

“Yeah, I just choked on with my tea, that’s all.”

“Be more careful,” The young baker, manifested turning his back at his company, something that McClain appreciated. Nonetheless, he raised his nose and sniffed several times. “Hey, can you feel a scent of flowers?”

Lance wished for death in the moment because he didn’t want to accept it, knowing that it would lead to nowhere. Keith, even in his position next to the bread, felt the fragrance of the gardenias. Lance felt nothing more than angst.

Did they fall so fast? How there wasn’t a way to evade that, to prevent them to explode without control.

“Must be that crazy flower lady you have as a neighbor.”

Another petal fell down onto his legs, like it was announcing that love had sprout, but at the same time, chopping off the wings of an unrequited love. “You love him, but he doesn’t. That will consume you.” It would be the gardenia type of love, one that had to be a secret for the sake of both, although on the outside, Lance was the only victim, and because even if he died to the famous _h_ _anahaki disease_ , talking about it would be like cutting with scissors the emotional bond they have built throughout the years.

Above all the people he flirted with, why Keith?

Lance is not an idiot. He clearly knows that he prefers friendship instead of love. The gardenia’s fragrance wasn’t fading away, the baguettes were getting cold, the sign of “closed” was hanging on the door of the bakery, Shiro was taking his time in coming back, a white petal got caught in the mix of apple and cinnamon, and the pizza breads ended up being awful for him.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was looking worried at Lance, who preferred to play with his fingers. In front of them lied a cup of red berry tea and a croissant on a plate. McClain wasn’t eating, his chest produced a sound when he breathes, but at least he wasn’t spewing out petals. He was trying his hardest to not think about Keith. Six months had passed and the disease only got worse, because the amount of petals were _in crescendo_ by every time he coughed. That’s what happens when you fell in love, you end up being more attentive and tangled to that person.

It roots.

And it blooms.

The older man bites his lips. Keith wasn’t at home because Shiro told him to buy some yeast and flour, along with money for a cab. Shiro took the chance to speak with the chestnut-color haired man after he called him to the bakery. The appointed man showed up at the usual forty minutes with his favorite green jacket, but this time, he was using a mask to cover the lower part of his face and had very noticeable bags in the sockets of his eyes. His skin was precious as always, but the exhaustion was impossible to miss.

“Looks like you didn’t take any precautions with me.”

“I’m not seeing Keith today,” Lance whispered, taking half of his mask out in order to speak with comfort “so I can stop my farce for the moment.”

“Didn’t you ask yourself why I called you here?”

“I sensed it. That’s why I came like this.”

Lance looked very calm, pretty distant from the boisterous and free spirited man he used to be before his emotions exploded. It wasn’t hard to associate that lack of expression with resignation. That sign was a warning alert for Shiro. 

“I’ve realized that you are drinking from my selection of tea, but also that something is happening to you. I don’t mind at all about the tea, you can keep doing it, but the other issue doesn’t even compare to that. It’s bad, Lance, and it makes me worry about you. Every day you seem to suffer more by just breathing and when I see Keith and you together, it is obvious you do everything possible to contain yourself.”

The only thing that remained was the trace of a melancholic smile that the younger one sketched in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re pretty observant, Shiro.”

“So is Keith. Do you really think you can keep lying to him and that he won’t realize about it? You have to tell him, Lance, he has the right to know, as you have the right to be healthy. Do this for yourself, please.”

“I’ll keep telling him that I have an eternal cold. It’s not simple and I’m more surprised that you are the one proposing it.” Lance started to cough intensely, and although Shiro had the intention to help him, he quickly denied it with a gesture of his hand, before hiding his face under the table. Now, the floor surrounding both men was decorated with a quantity of bloomed gardenias, making both Shiro and Lance feel angst. “Tell me, is Keith seeing someone right now? I don’t think so, right?” Lance waited, while Shiro replied by nodding his head in denial. “Don’t you think that’s even sadder? He’s not with me because he’s with someone else, is just because he doesn’t look at me with the same eyes I see him. All of this is enough proof and its all I need to now, you don’t have to insist. Keith has absolutely no fault of me falling in love for him, as I can’t expect him to love me because that’s my desire.” He took a couple of seconds to breathe some oxygen, because talking for more than a minute was a hard task for him now. After that, he smiled with the little arrogance he had left. “Isn’t it true that I’ve matured?”

The chestnut-color haired just laughed to his last comment, but Shiro didn’t follow him. After the joke and the whistling chest of the man, Shiro closed his eyes and muttered his last sentence:

“So you still want to keep it as a secret?”

Lance smiled and left without even trying the tea. For Shiro, it meant that no matter what words he said to his sick friend, the definitive answer was going to be exactly the same.

 

* * *

 

Lance had his hand on his cheek, which was burning like hell due to the punch his friend stroked on him. He found himself lying on the floor with a furious Keith on top of him astride and grabbing him from the neck of his shirt, shaking him so hard that the air was almost gone. Around them, cloudy petals were floating like the snow in winter. Lance felt dizzy due to the strike, his lungs were collapsed and the mixed scent of bread, gardenia and mango tea was all over the floor tiles, along with a broken cup.

“Are you a complete idiot?! Did you believe that I won’t realize it, that I was an imbecile?!

“I thought I was doing a great job.”

“You were getting worse every day! It was obvious it wasn’t just a stupid cold!”

The brown haired had never seen Keith’s eyes shine that way, with an assortment of anger and grief. He felt guilty, he didn’t know how to react and at the same time he was suffocating by trying to come with a fictional solution. He was angry at himself and with the world.

Suddenly, the dark haired let his grasp loose, allowing Lance to put his occipital on the cold floor tiles and letting rest in Keith’s chest. His shoulders were shaking and the scent of flowers that his friend’s cinnamon colored skin emanated seemed extremely cruel to him.

“It should have been me.” Keith whispered.

“I’m the one that says stupid thoughts, Keith. But I admire you for not falling to the attractiveness of my person, how you did it?”

“You should have told me sooner.”

“Why for? I know your answer already.”

“There isn’t another way?”

“Surgery, but they would take my emotions with it too, so it’s a very high price to pay. Well, besides the costs of the operation.”

“I have some money saved, let me help you. I know Shiro would be glad to help…”

“No, Keith. Things are fine just the way they are.”

“They are not fine at all, moron!”

“Do not grip harder, handsome, you’re already leaving me breathless.”

“Stop with your poor taste jokes.” Keith barely could speak, dragging his words out. Lance, despite being destroyed inside, was trying to be the calmed one, even though he wasn’t an expert. Everything was so fucked that, although the light-desirous gardenia petals were surrounding them, he felt a void so enormous that his tears faded away a long time ago. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

“And you stop it with the apologies, Keith.”

“I can’t love you, Lance. I can’t do it.”

Both broke at that moment.

“Not necessary to repeat yourself,” whispered the young of the cracked smile, attempting to hold back with all his might the sprouts that were fighting to break out of his throat, overflowing him, destroying everything, killing him, “I know that already.”

That was never a secret.


End file.
